


Honkyoku

by paburke



Series: Kintsugi [6]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Gen, He's wrong, Marriage of Convenience, Tatooine Slave Culture, Vader thinks he knows what's going on
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-07
Updated: 2018-10-07
Packaged: 2019-07-27 20:52:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16227116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paburke/pseuds/paburke
Summary: Vader dreams to escape from the pain of his recovery.  He dreams of singing to his son.





	Honkyoku

-owk->bt-

Vader tried to escape the pain.  Why the hell wasn’t he in bacta?  His skin was burnt from the lava.  Obi-Wan had cut off limbs.  He didn’t want to be in his body anymore, so he left.

He entered a dream, where he was singing a lullaby to a tiny baby with attentive blue eyes and a blond tuff of hair on top.  He knew this was Anakin Skywalker’s son. His son.  He had sacrificed much to give his family everything.  He would give them everything.

“You can sing too?” a Nubian woman asked out of his view.

“Singing is a necessary diplomatic function on many planets,” Vader imitated Obi-Wan’s crisp Coruscanti accent.

“Unfair,” Padmé answered.

Vader hid a smile.  His Angel couldn’t sing worth a damn and she was still perfect in her imperfections.

“I’m getting you the sheet music to the Nubian nursery songs.”

“As you wish.”

Then Vader remembered that Padmé was injured and it was all Obi-Wan’s fault.  Darth Sidious had promised to save her.  He needed to heal and return to his love and the dream faded away.

-owk->bt-

Vader drifted away from the agony.

He wished for the dream again, the one where his Angel was at his side while he sang to their son.  He heard the slightly familiar melody.  Maybe he had heard it during the celebration after kicking the Trade Federation out of Naboo?  Yes, there had been a mother cradling her daughter off the main road and singing her to sleep.  That was the lullaby he now sang to his son.

His son was in his arms again.  He was perfect, his blue eyes drifting shut.

Peace.  Yet he burned.

This peace was out of reach at the moment and it was Obi-Wan’s fault.  His son vanished from his sight.

-owk->bt-

Something… someone was trying to keep Vader tied to his body, the pain of recovery.  (He couldn’t smell bacta? Why not?)

It felt like Sidious.  Why would Sidious want Vader stuck in his body when he had an escape route?  He must not understand.  Vader slid around Sidious and into his dream world where he and Padmé were raising his son.

He opened his eyes to see his bright, intelligent son smiling back at him as he sang a Tattooine slave song of a wily jakrab escaping from a pack of anoobas.  Of course, it was a metaphor of a slave escape his owners.

“I’ve never heard you sing that one before,” Padmé said.

“From Tattooine,” he answered almost defensively.  He was speaking with a Nubian accent now.  “He should know the songs from both of his parents.”  Why didn’t Padmé understand this?  Frustration burned.

Then Sidious caught him and pulled him back.  It was definitely Sidious, he recognized.  Vader fought.  He wanted to stay.  What was the point of returning to a brutalized, lame body?  It wasn’t ready yet.  Sidious inflicted pain, greater pain than he was experiencing before.

What?  Why?   Why would his master do this?

_Punishment for disobeying_ , Sidious promised.

Vader thought he could hear his son screaming in the back of his mind.

-owk->bt-

Vader was paying attention to Sidious now.  He knew how to avoid a master’s punishment.  He was born knowing.  He hadn’t needed the knowledge in the Jedi Temple, the adults were too stupid to have true punishments, but he knew to make his move when his master’s attention was elsewhere.

Finally, he had his chance.  He pushed his consciousness out to his dream world, with Padmé and his son.  There was no singing.  Oh, please sing.  Don’t let this risk be for nothing.  Sing please.  Sing anything, just sing to his son.

There was a pause.

A decision made as Vader held his breath.  He knew he couldn’t force it.  Or Force it.

Finally, he started humming.  A song from the Jedi crèche.

Vader burned with anger and immediately the comfort and the calming influence of the dream drifted away.  Vader struggled to return to that dream place and apologized.  _Sorry, sorry, sing please_.

Another pause longer than the first.

Vader held breath that he didn’t need.

He started singing the Jedi crèche song again and Vader stomped down on his reflexive anger.  If he was calm and peaceful, maybe he would open his eyes to see his son.  He didn’t open his eyes, but there was warmth against his chest.  A heartbeat next to his and the soft smacking sounds of a baby drinking milk.

Vader rested in it.  If his emotions were peaceful, he would be able to stay.

When the pain was too much.  When he finally returned to his body, Sidious was waiting with punishments, but like any choice made by a slave, the freedom was worth it.  Also, at the end of this punishment, he was dumped into bacta, finally.

Manipulating masters was also a talent he learned early.

-owk->bt-

**Author's Note:**

> Honkyoku- pieces of music played by Japanese Zen monks for enlightenment and alms. It was a breathing mediation.


End file.
